Magical Wiles with a Spot of Trouble
by The-Turducken-Affairs
Summary: Sam meets a fairy. From there, things get wonky. Dean's just glad it's not him.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: Supernatural isn't mine.**

**A/N: I haven't quite decided when this story takes place, but my general goal is for there to be very few spoilers. That may or may not change depending on if it gets too tedious for me to not name drop some events. ****But, eh, no spoilers as of yet.**

**Happy reading!**

* * *

Sam and Dean have been on the road for over a day, a case halfway across America having called their attention by way of the complimentary '_Color TV!_' that was in their '_modern and clean!_' motel room. So far, the case looks promising- complete with mystery (and intrigue), action, and Dean swears to god that _this time_ the thing eating people really is a zombie.

Currently, Sam is sitting his firm booty down in the passenger seat (obviously), trying his best to tune out Dean's jokes and music taste. As of yet, as of his whole life, this is not working out well for him. Dean has a total of three jokes in his arsenal. Granted, Dean is very adept at changing these jokes to match the circumstances, but Sam notices- he didn't go to Stanford for nothing.

"We should get a motel room for the night Dean." Sam rubs his hand down his face, because he's tired.

"Just a little farther little brother! Don't pass out me anytime soon, we've got a lot of zombie planning to do." Dean responds and he is, by some sort of ungodly, unholy force, chipper.

Sam's thoughts take a darker turn- petulant and blearily grumpy- _What the hell, Shouldn't he be angsting or angry about something? Oh god, he's going to be like this for the whole case. Ugh, tired._ Externally, Sam blinks slowly and grunts.

"C'mon Sammy! Where's all your energy? I bet you've pulled all-nighters all the time for research."

Somehow, Dean's chipperness progresses to full blown energetic delight. Somehow, Sam resists the urge to punch Dean in the face. This most likely has something to do with his life depending on Dean's ability not to crash the Impala.

"TIRED Dean. Room, sleep, NOW." And that is all Sam has to say on the topic. Dean had better realize just how serious Sam is.

"Don't be a nerd. This is zombies we're talking about!"

_He only has himself to blame for this_, are Sam's final sane thoughts before he submits to years of instincts that promote brotherly heckling. "Find us a room or I'm going to talk about my feelings."

The Impala is filled with an uneasy silence, spreading and thickening the air with tension. Dean seems frighten, wide eyes framed by lush, curly eyelashes that cannot save him from his brother's wrath. His skin pales and freckles, usually hidden by tan, weathered skin, make a sudden, vibrant appearance upon his face. _(Some might say Dean looks so pretty when he's scared. Not me though, I would never.)_

Dean cries in a hushed, emotionally ravaged voice, "You wouldn't!"

And then there is a moment where the brothers' eyes meet. Their surroundings are forgotten amidst the intensity of silent warfare via squinty eye looks. Sam's eyebrows raise and crinkle, his eyes squint, and Dean knows that Sam means business.

And the moment after this moment, Dean speeds along in a desperate search for a motel or side road that may lead to a motel. He prays to any non-man eating deity that he will happen upon a room soon.

By the powers of something, his prayer is answered. Dean is forever grateful as he maneuvers his smooth, black metaled beauty into the parking lot of the motel.

When the Impala comes to a stop, Sam sticks his long, ostrich legs out of the car and stands, looks unimaginably smug the whole while (He has, in fact, been looking smug ever since he threatened Dean with feelings). Outside, he makes a short-lived orchestra of noises- cracks, groans, and stretching. Then his legs meander him away, without a word, to what appears to be a lobby, leaving Dean behind with bags, ammo, and his thoughts (thoughts of revenge, thoughts of burgers).

The motel is decrepit and creepy. It has the cliché appearance of a haunted house, complete with flickering lights, cobwebs, and a desolate parking lot- save for one sleek, vehicular babe.

It takes Sam but a few minutes to check in. This motel is the sort of place desperate for business and eager for money.

In their newly paid for motel room, Sam discovers that his standards of living shares a direct correlation with his level of sleepiness. In this instance, the room looks like a palace fit for the highest of knights.

Dean says, "Awesome," and it's pretty clear he doesn't mean it.

Dean shuffles around doing who knows what, while Sam collapses, fully clothed and smelly, atop a mattress of questionable hygienic merits.

His final thought before sleeps drags him into dreams and blankness is this, _"Tomorrow morning. I'll think about zombies then. Gank, gank… gank… zzzzzzzzzzz."_

* * *

_Grokll is known across the land for three things. He is strong, smart, and dashingly handsome. He is called Grokll the Great by allies and Grokll the Terrible by foes. _

_Right now, he battles those who dare cross him. Right now, he is losing._

_In the heat of battle, there is not much more Grokll can do. His numbers are dwindling and his kingdom will fall. He bears witness to the demise of all he has known and realizes the time for last resorts is now._

_Volleying against all instincts, he flees. _

_He is filled with shame, but knows that even Grokll the Great, alone, is not enough. He must gather strength. He must gain followers. He must find the Chosen One._

_The prophecies declare that the Chosen One will bring peace and the rise of the rightful heir to these lands. Seeing as Grokll is the rightful heir, he wants this to happen. And yet, the prophecy says the Chosen One will not find his way across realms and dimension for another 500 years._

_Grokll will never live long enough to see his throne if he were to wait. He likes being king and he likes having an unlimited supply of grapes. Dethroned, he will not have these things. _

_With great determination and fearlessness, he decides he must cross over. He will find the Chosen One and train him well. Then, they will amass a legion of warriors and retake the throne. _

_Grokll will be king, and the Chosen One will have all the grapes he wants. It's a win-win minus the 500 year waiting period._

_But first, he must make his way through the Forest of Too Many Trees to Navigate Comfortably, climb up the Mountain of Great Height and Way Too Little Oxygen, and then enter __**The Portal**__. __O__nce he reaches the other side, Grokll must find the Chosen One. _

_Legend says the Chosen One will tower over all, be equipped with an arsenal befitting of war, and have washboard abs._


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: Supernatural belongs to none other than not me.**

**A/N: Read it and weep (with laughter?).**

**Warnings: Dean uses the b- word guys!**

**Mild spoiler because of a very quick reference to a fact revealed to Sam in the Season 2 finale and then later revealed to Dean (it's two words, d_ b_, FYI)**

* * *

Dean awakens to the smell of old people and a vague feeling of dread. He flounders for minutes before he can make sense of anything.

Ah yes- it all comes back to him.

Sam was being a butt and made them stop at possibly the worst motel ever. Dean's still not entirely sure this motel isn't just a ghost motel that won't disappear the second Sam and Dean are killed by some sort of psycho ghost that has a taste for handsome men and their brothers. And yet, he was smushed like putty against Sam's hellish threats.

What sort of cold hearted fiend threatens their own brother with talking about feelings? Sam Winchester, the boy with the demon blood- that's who. Sam's just lucky he's got such a loyal and amazing brother like Dean who will not abandon him despite the mistreatments he must endure. And for that, Dean decides that Sam is the one who's going to get them breakfast today.

Dean verbalizes this sentiment with the barking order of, "Breakfast, bitch!"

After Dean's proclamation rings across the room, reverberating along walls and windows and echoing through bathroom acoustics, he realizes Sam was not awake.

This realization comes in the form of a startled giant-brother jolting awake with a "Gah!" and flailing in similar fashion to a fish. Dean smirks. Then, after he sees Sam is close to having gathered his bearings, he repeats himself.

"Breakfast, bitch!" And his face glows with triumph, garnering just a bit of the vengeance he figures is owed to him after yesterday.

For his part, Sam just rolls his eyes and leaves the room.

* * *

Dean is a simple man who has simple needs. One of these needs is food. For breakfast, he likes to have a hot cup of black coffee and a meal with lots and lots of trans fats.

Dean is diligent with his eating schedule- eat burgers, pie, and anything else that Sam would wrinkle his prissy little nose at as frequently as possible. However, a certain pesky brother is getting in the way of this plan. That brother- Sam Winchester, just to clarify- is taking his sweet time, probably saving kittens from burning trees or helping down old ladies stuck in tall buildings.

While this is fine in theory, it is an absolutely indecent practice when one is supposed to be getting food for their awesome, older brother.

With the passing of time, Dean finds that contemplation only makes him hungrier. _That's why I don't like to think_, he reminds himself, vindicated by the correlation of hunger and thinky thoughts within him.

And more time passes. And then some more time. Eventually it has been a whole half hour, and there is not a hair nor a vision nor a gleaning nor an inkling of Sam's soon return.

Dean is done waiting. All that's left to do is to go find his horrible, booger-brained brother and kick him in the shin. And then Dean will soothe his ruffled soul with pie. Can't forget the pie. _Sam __**always**__ forgets the pie, because he sucks. And he's dumb._

* * *

"Sam is a pretty princess. Knights in shining armor climb his luscious locks. Sam makes even the girliest girls puke glitter- Come on Sam! No self-respecting dude should let someone get away with calling him those things. Saaaaam!"

Dean had left the motel and has searched everywhere for Sam. He began with the closest fast food joint and did a systematic search from there. He asked hot waitresses and pimply teenage boys alike about if they'd seen Sam.

To describe Sam, Dean would say things along the lines of, "_He's like a white Fabio,"_ and _"you're first instinct might be to call him a moose."_

And yes, plenty of people had seen Sam. That wasn't the problem. The issue was that Sam seemed worried- distracted, like he had somewhere he had to be.

In the whole history of their lives, Sam being distracted by unknown things has never boded well. Dean likes to think that his sheer awesomeness can shield Sam from most problems, but sometimes Dean forgets and let's Sammy do crazy things like get breakfast for his tired brother.

If Sam were a moose, Dean thinks all he would need is to perfect the moose mating call. As it is, Dean doesn't know if Sam would more receptive to hearing "_hey sailor, come over here_" from a male or female voice.

"SAMMM! Where are you?!" Dean hollers, continuing the search for his complex, human brother.

* * *

Dean is a talented fellow. He's smart. He's quick. He knows exactly where Sam is.

A spark of brilliance had flared and traveled through Dean's entire nervous system from foot to head, when he realized he knew where Sam was. Through nothing but instinct and large footprints leading away to the woods beside their motel, Dean figured out that Sam had gone to the woods.

As of now, Dean is conflicted with feelings. Should he be happy that he knows where Sam is? Should he be worried- uh… mad- that Sam has been wandering the woods for some sort of nonsensical reason this whole time? Should Sam be forced to be Dean's breakfast slave for the next week, or will Dean be condemned to being Sam's doting caretaker after this?

These are the sorts of thoughts that plague Dean throughout his woodsy trek.

He whistles and hums and gnaws on his lips. He makes smacking noises and slaps passing trees with his palms. He is not very good at waiting, so he fidgets in a way he knows would drive Sam bonkers. He halfway hopes Sam will make his way out of the woodwork just to bitch at Dean.

* * *

An hour later, Dean finds Sam.

It was easy. All he had to do was make his way through the woods- go straight for ten minutes, go left and down a sloped dirt hill to avoid a log pileup, jump to the right to avoid a river, double back to the other side of said log pileup, walk a lot, and then presto! He found Sam.

Sam is laying in a clearing made of flowers and tall grass that rustles with a gale of wind that Dean knows isn't blowing anywhere else in the woods. There are birds chirping and rays of sun flashing against Sam's shiny head.

It's like a fairytale regimented only to a small sphere surrounded his brother.

Sam will never hear the end of this. Dean's already imagining how he'll say it to Sam.

"_Well you see. Here I was, the knight in shining armor and picking up babes the whole time. I was all like, I'm so glad you think I'm hot and you want me to have your number, but you see miss, I really need to find my brother. Well, no he's not as ravishingly fetching as me, but he's brother. I love him anyways."_

And, "_What's that, hunter instincts? Sam is in the woods? Alright, this will be as easy as eating a whole pie." _

And then he'll finally get to the part where Sam looked like an honest to god magical princess, conked out while surrounded by shrubbery and forest creatures and junk.

Dean's day is going great now, filled with thoughts of blackmail and a retrieved brother, but then Sam starts to move.

As Sam stirs, rolling around and then moving to get up, something happens.

Sam begins to glow. Sam is twinkling in the color of Rose Amour #33.

This should be hilarious, but right now it's not. Dean has no idea why this is happening, where Sam's been, if he drank the wrong punch at the party or what.

And then Sam is wide awake, staring at Dean, and says, "What are you looking at?" All Dean can do is respond truthfully to his fluorescent brother.

He says, "Dude. You're pink."


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: Supernatural is not mine.**

**A/N: I've changed the rating of the story because the last two chapters have contained swear words and this chapter talks about sex (not in detail, not as something the characters are currently doing, but in the context of jokes).**

**Read, review if you want me to know that you like my story, and have fun!**

* * *

_The task bestowed upon him, the risks and trials he faced to change fate, sucked. A LOT. They were dangerous and exhausting and Grokll the Great never wants to see another tree or mountain again._

_The woods were so full of big, tall, crappy trees that Grokll was forced to __walk__ whole way through the woods. He's pretty sure his wings are still pouting because of their disuse by Grokll._

_The mountain was really, super steep and there were these stupid little troll things at the top that kept throwing pebbles at him. Granted, that had ended once Grokll was within range and was able to use his laser eyes to blast them off the other side of said mountain. Yeah, that's right- Grokll the Great has __laser eyes__._

_He thought that using __**The Portal **__would have been the easiest part. Grokll's assumption had always been that __**The Portal**__ was a direct link to the Chosen One's general location. _

_Grokll was right, but his other assumption was horribly, terribly wrong. Grokll had assumed that finding the Chosen One would be easy, given the unique description the Prophecy offered._

_Apparently though, in the Chosen One's world, a good portion of the masses are really in shape, hide their weapons, and EVERYONE is taller than Grokll- it's enough to give any king of grapes and fairies and all around amazing, talented warrior a complex. Well, at least height isn't directly proportional to __everything__ that matters. Grokll's wings are HUGE. _

_Back to the main issue: Once Grokll arrived, he was faced with a strange new way of living and he experienced what he learned is referred to as 'culture shock'. _

_He had no way of knowing which of the ginormous people he saw was the Chosen One. _

_The only choice he had was to do a series of magical things. While he did these things, he got a 'job' at a 'coffee shop' so that he could earn 'money' to 'buy' things. In his world, Grokll the Great had to merely ask for a thing and it was given to him. But hey, at least this place has an endless supply of grapes in what is called a 'grocery store'._

_The series of magical things Grokll did are these:_

_He tried calling the Chosen One by way of magical connection (think of it as a telephone that you answer with magic), but realized the Chosen One had not yet learned about Grokll's world's magic. _

_He tried yelling loudly, "Chosen One! The tall sex muffin with lots of guns!" (a combination of phrases he learned at the coffee shop) but people only spared him a moment's glance of confusion before shrugging. Except for one lady who would not let it go and followed him for about a mile of sidewalk, lecturing him and threatening to call his mother. But that's neither here nor there; she got her comeuppance (Grokll is very skilled in the dark art of terminal hiccups)._

_Eventually and presently, he is forced to send out a _PING_!er that will _PING!_ him when the Chosen One is found. _

_Grokll is not very good with creating _PING_!ers- his PING!ers have a tendency to leave the subject confused, plagued by the sound of PINGs for way too long, and… well, pink. _

_More importantly though, they leave him exhausted, forcing him to remain in a predominately non-magical state of being for the duration of the _PING_!ers tour of duty. _

_But alas, Grokll grows desperate and so this is exactly what he does._

* * *

There comes a time in your life when you look back at everything you've done, what you've become, and you don't understand. The circumstances, the fears, and the troubles you've faced make you unrecognizable and you wish you could take a step back; wish you could change the outcome.

Right now, this is how Sam feels.

The day had started simply. His brother woke him up abruptly, rude and bossy and quite proud of it. He told Sam to get breakfast and so he left, glad to get away from what he knew would develop into all out brotherly war if he stayed.

But then everything began to crumble and what he knew turned to nonsense.

He felt dazed, off-kilter and side-tracked, from the moment he left the motel. Even as he ordered pancakes, coffee, and pie for Dean and a smoothie for himself, he could swear he heard someone called Grokll the Great speaking to him in his head. The world felt lighter, like it was tunneled and floating around him, unreal. There were strange noises and an incessant 'pinging' drumming within his skull.

The next thing Sam knew, he was in the woods and his brother was telling him that he's pink.

What the hell?

* * *

"I'm telling you Sammy, this is what happens when you act like a girl all the time." Dean pauses and then nods, as if he's agreeing with himself.

Sam and Dean are back in their room. As soon as they got back, Dean pushed Sam into the bathroom, saying, "Maybe taking a shower will get rid of your… rosy glow. Also, you stink."

Sam did what Dean said, because Dean was in one his _moods_ and it's not like Sam had any other ideas on how to respond to a spontaneous appearance of some sort of sparkling, pink aura haze.

The shower didn't help.

So here Sam is, cleaning his gun, while Dean, hoveringlike he tends to do, makes fun of him. Sam would say they're both coping with this pretty well.

* * *

A few hours pass and Sam and Dean are getting into the nitty gritty core of the issue. They sit opposite of each, elbows planted on knees and leaning forward- you know, attentive like.

"All I'm saying is this is going to be pretty difficult to explain when we're interviewing suspects."

Sam says this, making some sort of hand jabbing motion towards the space between them, and Dean scoffs.

"Dude! It's not like you've ever really pulled off the FBI look anyways. That ship sailed when you turned fourteen and stopped cutting your hair."

"I cut my hair! Just because I don't buzz my hair into the shape of a lopsided triangle doesn't mean I don't."

"This_,_" and Dean gestures to his spiky, _pointy_ head, "Is art. It's carefully calculated, manfully tousled sex hair."

Sam is unimpressed; he looks it too. "Dude, you're so lame. _I_ don't need to depend on _my_ hair as sex appeal. I'm a tall, muscly stud. All I have to do is look at a girl and she wants me."

Dean laughs. He laughs louder and harder than he has in years and Sam hates it. "If that's true, then why don't you ever get laid?" Check.

There is no hesitation before Sam shoots back, "How do you know I don't?" Match.

Awkward silence pulls its way through the boys' ears and Dean looks flabbergasted. He looks as if the one thing holding him to this world has just been severed and now he's Sandra Bullock from Gravity; space meat.

"Y- you? How- no why- no _when?_"

"You're not around all the time Dean. You like to go out- drink, bang chicks, play pool. Really, sometimes I get a whole day to myself where I'm free to," and here, Sam pauses and tilts his head to the side. He smirks a bit in that conniving little Sam-way he has, "Do whatever."

Dean seems to have reattached himself to the working order of his mind's orbit, because he face goes from that of a slacken fool to the most devious little imp ever.

"Not anymore!" And he lets out an accidental cackle- it's the kind of laugh that only Sam has ever heard, because it is a totally dorky, unattractive laugh that leaves him coughing and hacking on mis-swallowed spit.

Sam looks for clarification, so Dean deals the final blow, "You look like a tube of lipstick that had a torrid love affair with a bottle of Pepto Bismol, _stud_." Checkmate.

* * *

_Grokll the Great is 'washing' 'dishes' at his job, when he hears a "PING!"_

_He has no time to waste, and thinks/says, "That is for Grokll! I must leave now, strange beings. I have found the Chosen One and he will help me on my quest! Oh, and have a good day and don't forget to come back with your friends!" And then Grokll dashes out of the shop._

_Time to meet the Chosen One. _


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: While Grokll the Great may be my unfortunate creation, I do not own the so much cooler and hotter duo from Supernatural.**

**A/N: Sorry for not updating for about half a month! I've been pretty busy, but I'm back now and ready to shower you with lots of attention and chapters! :)**

**I'm hoping after this chapter I can get down to some action and stuff, so e****njoy and review!**

* * *

Grokll the Great had thought that over the last few 'weeks' he had gotten a fairly good grasp on how humans behave. However, now that he is in the company of the Chosen One, he is not too sure.

The Chosen One, who is just as tall and _solid_ as the Prophecy boasted (and also super pink), and his companion are behaving in a way that momentarily confuses Grokll the Great.

The two men are rolling around on the ground, making strange grunting noises.

Grokll the Great wonders if they are part of the 'porn' he has heard so much about.

He learned a great deal about this porn while he was 'wiping down' tables with a 'dishtowel' and overheard a particularly long and hearty conversation between several of the 'customers' at his 'workplace.'

After his stealthy information gathering mission near 'Table 12,' Grokll the Great learned that all men love porn and that there is a mixed opinion about it in the woman community. He also learned that people like to 'get down and dirty' with their lovers in porn.

Thinking over everything he knows on the subject and comparing it to the two tussling on the ground in front of him, Grokll the Great decides that the fact that they are both men who are down and most likely getting dirty from all that activity on the floor (and Grokll the Great knows for a fact that floors are very dirty, because after 'closing time,' he had to 'sweep' the floors) means that they must be doing the porn.

Grokll the Great has no time for their bonding merriments though, so he says with the kingly authority he has gained over his lifetime, "STOP MAKING PORN WITH YOUR 'GAY' LOVER, CHOSEN ONE, AND HELP GROKLL THE GREAT WITH HIS GROWING PROBLEM!"

* * *

Sam and Dean had been arguing about Sam's hair and sex-life and all of those good things normal people don't talk to their family about, when their argument became physical.

Sam made a snide comment, Dean made a snide comment, someone went too far and then they were both on the ground duking it out.

They wrestled for a while with attacks and counterattacks- Dean trying to let loose a giant glob of spit right on Sam's face, Sam farting in retaliation- and now, Sam is just about to flip Dean over and escape his headlock when they are very rudely interrupted.

* * *

"STOP MAKING PORN WITH YOUR 'GAY' LOVER, CHOSEN ONE, AND HELP GROKLL THE GREAT WITH HIS GROWING PROBLEM!"

For a moment, Dean wants to chuckle like a dirty old man because whoever is speaking has Dean running for his money when it comes to double entendre and pervy lingo.

Then, Dean remembers that it is never good to have a stranger in your room, especially after your brother has recently gone missing and was returned to you in a way that differed from his original packaging.

That is to say, Sam is pink and there's a weirdo in their room.

Dean and Sam both jerk up from their awkward- especially awkward after the comment they just heard- positions, alert and ready to cut a bitch.

Dean shoots a glare at the ugly, nonthreatening creature that appears to be hovering the corner of their room. In the second that it takes Dean to glare and this so called 'Grokll the Great,' Dean observes that the creature looks like he could be human if not for the fact that he's short (like, maybe 3 feet tall?) and floats.

After his quick visual assessment, Dean asks, because Sam is not very threatening in his current condition, "Who the hell are you?!"

However, Dean's menacing demand of identity clarification is ruined when Sam also speaks and says a very strange thing.

"_You're_ Grokll the Great?!"

Dean is then left in the dust as his brother and this strange, short, fat, hairy... _thing_ begin to talk.

* * *

It all begins to make sense.

Sam is, in fact, not going crazy or about to die from some horribly embarrassing supernatural disease.

Grokll the Great explains, with great flourish and strange facial expressions, that Sam is pink because Grokll used some sort of magical location spell with pink side-effects. Additionally, Grokll had tried to 'magic call' Sam, thus explaining why Sam heard Grokll the Great in his head earlier.

Grokll only fails to clarify one thing, so Sam asks, "Why did you call me a stud muffin?"

And, with all the grandness and none of the smoothness of a true man of power, Grokll declares, "So as to ease you into an entirely alien culture, I used your kinds' common vernacular, particularly your kinds' slang so as to communicate succinctly and with a certain amount of normaility!"

And Sam is pretty sure that Grokll missed the normal train when he started talking inside Sam's head.

* * *

Grokll the Great, Sam, and Dean (and Dean is mortified to realize that his subconscious lists his own name last) talk for a good hour.

Grokll fills them in on his problem. He is a long lost king from yadda, yadda, yadda and then he says something about how he is willing to give Sam a lot of grapes if he saves Grokll's kingdom.

Sam seems very concerned with the well-being of Grokll's people and does not seem all that upset that they have been mistaken (again!) as a gay couple and even worse, by someone who isn't even from their planet.

And it is right then that Dean decides that he must be the only person with any common sense in this room, because he is still interested in knowing why Sam is pink, if Sam can become un-pink, and why Sam gets to be the savior of an entire kingdom with his own prophecy and everything when he can't even save Dean from pie withdrawal most days.


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: Supernatural isn't mine. I'm pretty sure that's a good thing...**

**A/N: Another chapter out, so eat it up and review!**

**Warning: Grokll the Great**

* * *

It turns out, being the foretold savior of an entire race of people and their mothers is stressful. Mostly because of _Grokll the Great_.

While Grokll may have fixed Sam's pinkness with the snap of his fingers, after being reminded by Dean that being pink is an absolutely unacceptable way of living, Sam discovers that Grokll lacks any sort of respect for boundaries.

Sam figures this out the first morning after Grokll appeared in their room, when said fairy king bursts into the room, _clapping his arms_ and, amidst the early morning whims of sunrise and snoring,_ hollering_ _cheerily_, "Alright, let's 'get a move on people'!"

And yes, Grokll actually does move both arms out to his sides before moving them back together to make an entirely unsettling CLAP noise.

And yes, Sam and Grokll do later have _words_, with there being a slight dissent as to whether Grokll was squawking like a particularly wretched banished frog prince or projecting like a truly awesome winged king-man-fairy.

And yes, Dean does promptly yell, "Son of a bitch!"

* * *

"No Dean, we cannot tie him to a wooden pole and churn him over a fire to see if he reacts poorly to fire."

Sam practically sighs out the sentence, because he has been hearing similar proposals all morning and feels that Dean is clear enough on exactly what is NOT OKAY and Sam no longer has the strength to enunciate all of his words.

"I'm just saying," Dean begins.

_And honestly, when is anyone ever 'just saying' anything?_ Sam wonders, halfway listening to his brother, halfway feeling particularly sorry for himself.

"That these are the sorts of things we have to figure out! I mean, what if we were attacked by a fire… monster thing and when I threw Grokll in front of us, it turns out he wasn't immune to fire in the first place?!" Dean continues to argue, speaking with the same growly passion he has for anything ranging from eating pie to nagging their enemies (which Dean calls strategic word gambling, but Sam knows that Dean really does just have a particularly mother hen-like knack for nagging, even when it comes to the highest ranking demons).

Sam, again, sighs out his counterpoint, "And why would you be throwing Grokll in front of the fire thingy in the first place if you didn't know he was fireproof?"

"Well," and Dean shrugs unapologetically, "He just seems like the kind of guy people have a tendency to want to throw into open flames. I figure he has to be impervious if he made this long in life."

And Sam's eyes widen a little bit, surprised that his brother used a word as big as 'impervious.' But still, no.

With that, Sam ends the Q&A session for appropriate behaviors towards annoying but still sentient beings, saying in what could be consider condescending cheerfulness, "Are you hungry?"

It is then that Grokll appears out from beneath the bed he had crawled under an hour ago, after feeling that he was not being given the proper amount of respect and dignity by the Chosen One and his scrappy sidekick, just in time to say, "Boy, am I ever!"

Well, it's not as if Sam ever said he didn't understand what Dean meant when he said Grokll seems like the kind of guy you'd want to see light up in flames.

* * *

Because, apparently, Grokll the Great is still a 'growing boy,' Sam and Dean are forced to watch the fairy shovel food into his mouth at a rate far surpassing even the limits of Dean friggin' Winchester.

After Sam had offered food as means of distraction for setting Grokll on fire, the three warriors (although, at this point, the term is used quite loosely to describe Grokll the Great, despite his numerous claims of top level badassery) had set out for the diner Sam had previously gone to before disappearing.

For about the first ten minutes, things were going great. Sam sat around eating heaps of leaves and dressing while the meat eating manly men bonded over their shared food preferences.

That is to say, Dean and Grokll were eating burgers, chewing only when absolutely necessary and breathing heavily with each bite, and seeming altogether far too pleased with themselves.

However, their camaraderie was a fickle being, lasting only as long as Dean's ability to stuff himself full of burgers. Once Dean was ready to move onto pie, Grokll mocked his manhood and said even the weakest of winged fighters could eat a measly four burgers and Dean was certainly not nearly as impressive as Grokll might have thought.

And now, Dean stares Grokll down, eyes gleaming with either hatred or pie lust, and says, "You are a fool and a weak legged buffoon. I look forward to the day I get to watch you burn." And then he gracelessly shoves a large, juicy spoonful of pie into his mouth, a dribbling of said pie falling down his chin.

Grokll looks betrayed by the statement, as if no one could have possibly foreseen his insult leading to a counter insult, and then he looks towards Sam, as if Sam has the power to set all that is wrong in the world right (which is actually most likely pretty close to what Grokll believes).

Sam, well versed in the rules of tableside repartee, raises his hands up as if to ward off Grokll's plea and says, "You're the one who said my brother was worse than the weakest fairy, you fix it."

For a moment, Grokll looks startle and Sam can almost sympathize, because he imagines that being a king makes it so that no one dares to insult you, meaning that Dean is by far the superior banterer. But one must fight their own battles (except for the fact that Sam is considering fighting Grokll's battle so as to save a whole kingdom, but that totally doesn't count), so Sam simply raises an eyebrow and waits for Grokll to make his move.

Grokll seems to gather strength from Sam's eyebrow aerobics and looks resolutely at Dean, opens his mouth and declares, "'Oh yeah?' Well 'you mama so fat'…"

Before Grokll can say anything else, before Sam can even think _'oh no'_, and before the average person can add up 2+2, Dean is across the table with fists flying and pie forgotten.

* * *

"Well that sucked." Sam says, slightly perturbed.

After Dean began to beat Grokll to a pulp, Grokll had panicked and had ended up rolling out of the booth seat and systematically running around the diner in vaguely circular routes of panic, screaming about being a king who should not be subjected to this sort of hooliganism and that he was 'not afraid to call his lawyers'.

Dean (whose shirt was covered in the innocent life juices of his abandoned pie and was entirely too large to run around in circles in the small confines of a local diner in order to chase otherworldly fairy royalty) ran around in circles in the small confines of a local diner, chasing other worldly fairy royalty.

Now, the police are at the scene, questioning people and Sam watches as a lot of fingers are pointed and jabbed in his, Dean, and Grokll's direction. Grokll is a few feet behind him and Dean, being attended to by the also present ambulance.

As the police and ambulance attempt to make heads or tails of the situation ("Was it a stunt for a movie?" or "Really? A very tall and ruggedly handsome man was running around chasing a Disneyesque villain's henchman?"), several of the locals arrive in order to gape at the scene and some seem quite excited about the whole thing.

Strangely enough, there is also a very angry woman who keeps threatening to call all of their mothers, in between fits of hiccups.

Sam starts to think that maybe this whole Chosen One business is going to be a lot of trouble.


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: Not mine.**

**A/N: Thanks for the follows and reviews guys! 3**** Support is always appreciated and if you ever feel that I don't mean that from the bottom of my heart, you are tragically mistaken.**

**Warning: Incredibly childish behavior (like pouting and stuff, not poopy diapers...).**

* * *

"Do you ever think that maybe we're not all that competent?"

Sam is packing up their things, because when they were at the diner, the police recognized them from one of their many stints on the 9 O'clock News. Yet, while Sam's massive paws- um, hands- are great scoopers, Sam is still gathering all of their stuff at a fairly leisurely pace, considering that jail time for them means high security imprisonment, execution, and lots of paperwork.

"What're you talking about? We're great!" Dean barks the assurance out while sweeping at the underbelly of his bed with a giant stick that he cut from an oak tree near the motel, in an attempt to save all of the innocent dust bunnies from Grokll the Not-So-Great.

"I guess." Sam says the words quietly and doubtfully, like a lost little lamb, and Dean absolutely _cannot_ have his little brother being compared to a lost little lamb. Ever. It's bad for his rep.

"Look Sam," Dean drops the stick and turns to his little brother, speaking with a temporary serious focus, "Our lives may not be perfect. Hell, some of the things we've gone through may seem like the kind of crap only a very childish, sadistic group of Hollywood writers could come up with! But through all of that, we're Winchesters and that means-

"Goddammit, Grokll!"

While Dean was speaking from the heart, bearing his soul and (shudder) looking directly into the storm of Sam the Doe Eyed Softie, Grokll's arm had been making a blind grab for the abandoned stick. Finally, his grubby little stub of an arm clasping around the barked rod, the arm pulled back and then jabbed the stick right into Dean's calf.

And now, all is forgotten (the sentiments of Winchesterdom left hanging, the yearly chick flick quota being fulfilled, Sam smiling just a little bit because his brother's pain is sometimes just what he needs) as Grokll hisses at the re-enraged Dean.

* * *

"_The cow takes a dog,_

_The cow takes a dog,_

_Hi-ho, the derry-o,_

_The cow takes a dog"_

Dean had eventually lured Grokll away from beneath his bed by pretending to fall asleep and leaving a sharpie on the ground next to the bed. When Grokll heard Dean's snoring, Grokll shuffled out into the open, chuckling way too loudly to be even a little bit stealthy, and then Dean jammed his foot down from his higher vantage point. His foot, perfectly angled and aimed, pushed Grokll onto the ground, supine and flailing.

From there, it was easy work to wrangle the little peevish hellion into the backseat of the Impala, Sam trailing behind the tangoing duo with all of bags in hand.

And now, 40 miles and five performances (each one voiced shrilly and with some sort of accent that Grokll has never had before this car ride) of The Farmer in the Dell later, Dean thinks maybe things can always be worse. And that thought right there is the hindsight of a rash man who has lived a hard and tiring life.

Because, the hindsight comes after Sam says, "I don't understand how, out of everything he could have learned within the few days he's been on Earth, Farmer in the Dell made it onto the list."

And Dean, filled with false hope that comes from being on the road with the most beautiful gal (Impala, guys) in the world, responds with, "I have no idea, but at this point, it can't get any worse."

And then, AND THEN, Grokll begins to rap.

* * *

"WHYYYYYY? I don't wanna!" Grokll is being buckled back into his seat, again, after trying to escape from the Impala on one of their gas stops.

Sam has one giant hand against Grokll's chest, holding the squirming, whining _king_ in place, as his other hand connects the seatbelt buckle with its clasp.

As he towers over the King of Grapes and Fairies, as he handles him with the care afforded a petulant child, and as he starts to question all of the choices in his life, Sam explains, "Because, Grokll. You might need my help, but so do a lot of other people. While you fill us in and I figure out how I can possibly help your kingdom, Dean and I are going to do our job."

All the while, Dean has been making faces at Grokll through the window separating them. Now, Dean has himself worked up into a state of hyper fervor and it shows when he says, "zombies!" but it comes out all wrong and Sam has to scrunch up his face a little at that.

"Don't do that Dean."

"Do what?" And _blink, blink, blink_ go Dean's wide and innocent sparkly, green eyes because he is definitely not doing anything wrong.

"Don't be annoying. Or weird."

And Dean somehow manages to get offended, stomping away to the driver's seat and turning up his music really quite loudly, like he has never been annoying in his whole entire life. Because clearly, being a bossy, noisy, sometimes funny but mostly not funny horn dog is nowhere near annoying.

* * *

"Alright Dean. What's the zombie ganking plan?"

Silence.

"Really, Dean? You're still mad that I consider you making faces at Grokll annoying?"

More silence.

"Fine. You're a friggin' angel Dean. Every second I spend in the presence of your diplomatic prowess fills me with awe."

Still, there's silence.

"_I_ would never ignore you, Chosen One."

* * *

Sam has heard about the dreaded family vacation road trip. He knows that most families plug in their iPods and portable movie players and read books and absolutely do not ever make eye contact with one another, for fear of starting conversations that one cannot take back or escape safely from, until the drive is over.

Sam, however, has been on the road all his life.

He thought he had done his time, and more, when he was stuck sitting next to a very horrible teenage version of Dean. Sam remembers all too well Dean's horrible phase of teenage brooding, bad smells (Dad never was good at teaching them about significant milestones, like wearing deodorant), and punching Sam too hard because Dean forgot that he had new muscles.

Sam had seen that time as test of character that maybe made him a better man. It definitely made him willing to make the hard decisions, the one's that involved low blows and dirty fighting.

However, he now discovers that his internal strength of character does not expand to dealing with the doubled pouting power of a grumpy Dean and an irritating, star struck fairy king.

At this point, Sam thinks he has only one think to be grateful for- this is the most quiet he has had in a long time.

"ARE WE THERE YET, CHOSEN ONE?"


	7. Chapter 7

This is part of the **The-Turducken-Affairs' Mini Writing Extravaganza**, a self-proclaimed writing event in which I've dedicated this Saturday (actually, only part of it, because I did end up having to do things. Ew. Things.) to writing Supernatural stuff. I've written updates for four preexisting stories and wrote a new one shot! Hooray?

* * *

**Disclaimer: Supernatural belongs to not me.**

**A/N: Right at the very beginning of this, Grokll the Great is admiring Sam. I just want to clarify that this very shortly covered admiration will never, ever be taken into the slashy direction (Sam/Grokll... or worse, Grokll/Sam? Eww). This is just Grokll is and you should accept him in all his questionable glory. (Also, I am in no way bashing slash or homosexual relations, just saying that the aforementioned pairing is not where this story is headed.)**

**KO'ed means knocked out.**

**Read, enjoy, review! :)**

* * *

Grokll the Great is supremely _not_ thrilled at the moment.

The brute that follows the Chosen One around will not let Grokll anywhere near the Chosen One-

_-Ahhh, Sam, the 'what a man' Chosen One who struts around on his long, knobby 'gazelle' legs with hair flowing behind him in a really quite enthralling manner, not that Grokll has been watching the Chosen One's every move or anything-_

But back to the whole not thrilled thing. While the Chosen One is being his glamorous self, this Dean character is becoming quite the 'thorn in' Grokll's 'side.'

Dean will not call Grokll _your majesty_ or _your royal big wings_ or even _sir_. Instead, Dean continues to call Grokll names like 'pie murderer'. What's worse, Dean is entirely too tall for such an unimportant knave!

To sum it up, Grokll is being forced to use all his kingly energy on putting up with the massive 'fart face' named Dean.

This is truly, horribly unacceptable and Grokll knows he must do something about it, and soon.

* * *

Normally, Dean loves cruising along in the Impala. Sometimes, he even likes that Sam is there. However, Grokll stinks (figuratively _and _literally).

The ride felt longer than his stint in Hell and that freakin' skull of rocks Grokll must be getting dumber as time wears on. He's also getting creepier.

After the third escape attempt, Grokll seemed to just… deflate. One moment, he was trying to twist away from the Winchesters' patented hunting hands and the next, he was silent and would not stop staring at Sam.

Now, Dean's never been the jealous type (hear that? That's the sound of sarcasm, guys. Seriously.), but he really doesn't like the attention Sam is getting.

Luckily for them, the ride is over and they are smack dab in the middle of zombie land.

So now all Dean has to do is pull Sam aside and say, "We need to get this hunt done. What are we going to do with that homemade pie terrorist?" and Sam will give him the answer.

Turns out, Sam totally does not do that. Instead, he sighs and says, in much the same way an insurance claim evaluator who has to deny yet another claim and is _so done_, "Grokll's not the one who started a brawl in the middle of the diner. As I recall, the pie was perfectly intact before then."

Dean huffs, crosses his arms and says, "So?" And it actually comes out a little bit nasally; as if Dean has decided this is such a waste of his time he's literally not going to waste his breath.

Sam actually has nothing to add on to that, so he shrugs.

And Dean, because he has _foresight _and stuff, says, "Right. He ain't going with us when we go to question the vics or any sort of authority that has the potential to put is in jail if they get suspicious…" And then Dean trails off, because he and Sam generally know what the other person is getting at and they've so got this.

"We could… Tell him to stay in the room?"

Sam and Dean look at each other for not even a second before they snort at that one (_in unison, because they be grooving with each other's thoughts_).

"We could knock him out, tie him up, and leave him somewhere where he definitely won't know where he is…. And then get him later."

And Dean's mouth falls open. This is his sweet _little baby _brother with the heart of gold. Candy grams and daisies fall out of Sam's ears. If he could carry a tune, Sam would sing "Hard Knock Life" and then do some sort of jig that fully accentuated his long ass legs (high kicks? Yes.). So it is this man, this puppy emulating, hair flipping column of gold, Sam _freakin'_ Winchester, who ends up suggesting such a thing?

Dean is so… He's so… He's so **proud**!

His face practically splits open with a grin (Nasty business, truly. I heard it happens if you don't smile enough and then all of a sudden you _do _smile.) that his face starts to sport and he practically sings, "Great thinking Sammy!"

* * *

Grokll the Great had been flexing his wings, a task that demands great concentration and dedication, when Sam and Dean return.

And he's so totally upset that Dean is getting in his way again, but he's significantly calmer about it than he was earlier, because he has a _plan._

He's about to instill his plan, his face scrunching up into a devilish grin and his wings burning just a little bit, starting by saying, ""Yo, what up,' Chosen One? I was think-"

OOF.

And then Grokll's thoughts are no more, because Dean just KO'ed him (Although technically, Grokll the Great is KO'ed, so there's no way he could actually know this at the moment… Let's just call it creative rights.).

* * *

Dean strolls out of the local library, rubbing his hands together in a way that totally matches the maniacal laughter he is imagining himself having but not actually doing because that would not be very Dean Winchester Suave (Not the hair product dammit!).

He figures that, since it is a Friday afternoon, that there's no way anyone will be at the library, so he shoved Grokll the Crappy into a supply closet.

As he makes his way to the Impala, he can tell that Sam, who is leaning against the Impala and actually does not look like a total dork while doing so, is happy too, because he's doing that thing where he looks away and his mouth twitches as if he's letting himself have phantom feelings of smiling (because Sam is often a good guy and tries to be all sensitive and stuff, especially when something not exactly good has happened to someone. What a weirdo.).

"You ready Sammy?"

Sam is in such a good mood that he doesn't even correct Dean, instead, saying, "Let's go, dude."

* * *

Grokll stirs awake to the smell of grapes.

_Huh, that's odd. Usually I only smell grapes when grapes are around or- *gasp* that scoundrel!_

And Grokll is furious. Because he knows the Chosen One's unfortunately related genetic defect has had the gall to knock out Grokll the Great, King of the Fairies and Grapes (and incidentally, he also smells like grapes when injured. It's part of how a true king is found. It's very complicated.).

The fury only helps to 'crank up' the vengeance Grokll's plan already had built into it and Grokll thinks, _That lowly king smatterer will pay!_

_Oh will he pay,_ Grokll the Great finishes sinisterly, as he chuckles in a similarly nefarious way.

"Alright miss, I'll just get a mop to clean that up and-"

The door to the closet that Grokll did not actual get far enough into his thought process to realize he was stuck in is opened by what must be a 'janitor.'

Grokll and the unsuspecting civilian come face to face with each other and their instincts are to scream, so they scream, "AHHHH!"


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: Supernatural ain't mine. I get full... credit? for Grokll the Great though. **

**Warning: Grokll flies solo in this one. As in, you all will be getting a full blast of Grokll and his questionable charm. I'm very sorry.**

**A/N: I just realized that Grokll counts as an OC and I have therefore added "OC" to the character listing for this story. It feels weird.**

* * *

_Of course_ this 'godforsaken' place takes serious issue with any member of its collection being injured. Grokll is starting to realize that these 'Americans' are not so impressed with his status as King of the Fairies and Grapes (They do not even care when he calls himself the King of the Grapes and Fairies. Apparently, they find neither the predominant influence over fairies _or_ grapes to be impressive in any way.).

Grokll is 'read his rights' and he sees an 'ambulance' for the second time during his entire stay on Earth (To be fair, this time the ambulance is here to 'fix up' the janitor- whose face is totally not as rainbow colored as most who meet Grokll's wings in the heat of battle- instead of Grokll himself.).

He begins to seriously wish that he had crossed **The Portal** into 'El Dorado' where the streets are lined with gold, or maybe 'Atlantis' where every day is a spa day, or even 'Canada' where they have the best maple syrup around.

Alas, Grokll was brought here for _reasons_, so he cannot fall to his own daydreams, or even these confounding 'handcuffs'.

With a burst of determination (and maybe a little bit of gas, but that is neither here nor there, and frankly, none of your business), he flies above the blue men with shiny badges, takes a quick detour towards the ambulance so he can grab ahold of the janitor (a heavy man, but Grokll's wings are _strong _and he has plans for this fellow), and then disappears into the distance in what he imagines must be a very dramatic scene that might even make it into the 'movie' he is sure will one day be made about him.

And 'by god', Grokll is a 'mad' powerful 'bro,' (Maybe that will be his 'movie' 'catch-phrase') so as he flutters around in the sky, he shoots beams out of his laser eyes in celebration and also because he doesn't not want any birds to fly near him and 'crap' on him.

Around the same time as Grokll's resolve is renewed and he is taking flight with his 'trusty steed' (to be fair, Grokll does not yet know that screaming men who apparently have a wife and two children at home do not count as steeds), Dean feels his skin crawl.

However, Dean decides he must be craving some pie and he is just having an instinctive reaction from the trauma of what happened the last time.

And for now, that is that (accompanied by a shrug and a jab at Sam's manhood).

* * *

Trying to save your entire race from a 'meanie head' invader by finding the chosen one mentioned in a prophecy from your world that is not supposed to come true for another half a millennia is hard.

It's almost as hard as carrying 'Mr. Jones' (The name you're pretty sure belongs to this screaming sack of heavy man).

But then again, Grokll the Great is a fairy who is not afraid to take the hard road and he is a freakin' heroic HERO, so he finds that these sorts of things do not get in his way.

But then again, again, he has heard on numerous occasions that he is a 'hardheaded' 'dunce' (which Grokll guesses must be some sort of compliment, because what else could it possibly be?) and Grokll is never one to back down from a well earned title like that.

With these thoughts of holy awesomeness blowing through his ear tunnels and rattling his brain around his head and down his throat just a little (What? You humans have brains that _always_ stay in the exact same spot? Boring.), Grokll wings on.

* * *

"I'll do whatever you want, just don't hurt me!"

"I have a _family_. Please!"

"I- I'm afraid of heights. And have asthma."

"OooOOoOh, I feel kind of nauseous."

"Grokll is _thinking__**, **_be quiet!"… "Also, you will now address me as 'Your Lordship of Lasers and Wings that Make My Heart Tingle with the Tinglies,' or 'Your Lordship of Tingles' for short."

"O- okay?... Your Lordship of… Tingles?"

"Excellent."

* * *

Some more thoughts along the way:

It is without a doubt an easy thing to do.

One must simply find the weakness that fills the gaps of a person and allow themselves to become the fungus that festers there.

That is exactly what Grokll plans to do. He will be the fungus that seeps into Sam's weak points and he will become unavoidable. Because Sam is the Chosen One and he must learn the _Way of the Wings_ if he is to ever bring Grokll back to power.

Oh, and save a kingdom, but, y'know, one thing at a time. Best not to get too hasty with all these _details_ to the 'big picture'.

Same difference anyways.

Grokll in charge (and that, too, could be his big 'blockbuster' catch-phrase)= Kingdom saved and grapes for everyone (or at least the everyones that Grokll likes, certainly not Dean, 'The Knocker-Outer of Kings').

* * *

Eventually, but with absolutely no doubt that this would happen (because otherwise, this would be a very anticlimactic ending to this whole thing), Grokll finds the Chosen One.

Although Grokll had originally needed to use a PING!er to locate the washboard ab deliverer, he later found out that he could have a 'tracker' 'implanted' into the Chosen One's skin, and well, how could Grokll say no to that?

Surprisingly, when he had asked for one at the onetime nearby epitome of all that is 'tech' savvy, what the locals called a 'Radio Shack,' he received suspicious looks and was given the tracker in a very slow, reluctant exchange of 'money' and 'bagged item'. If Grokll were to think about this in just a level above his own level of mental awareness, he might concede that his smile had been wrapped around his face in a rather disturbingly eager array of teeth and chapped lips.

As it is, he got a tracker, shrugged off the 'looks,' and jammed it (the tracker, not the looks. _Duh_.) right into the skin around the Chosen One's 'elbow crease' (Grokll has one too, but he has never had to think about what it was called before. Also, a momentary quest of curiosity revealed that its technical name is the 'antecubital space.' However, Grokll thinks he will save that name for a 'future date' in which he needs to whip it out of his brain bank for some extra flair.).

So yes, Grokll is mere minutes away from Sam the Savior's location, janitor and master plan at hand.

What happens next will be worth every bit of the cruel treatment he has faced. What happens next will show this 'Dean' character exactly 'who's boss' (hint: NOT DEAN.).

_What happens next will be destiny. Hehehe._


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: Supernatural isn't mine. It's not Grokll's either.**

**A/N: Thanks to everyone who has reviewed! Also, Grokll hopes that a certain follower of his greatness has eaten plenty of grapes in their time of sickness. Grokll says that grapes make everything better.**

**Warning: Cliff ahead!**

* * *

"Nice bracelets," Dean says like he knows prison and has homies rattling the bars inside.

"Who is that?" Sam says like a concerned citizen, because he _is_ quite concerned that Grokll has brought them a very large man.

And Grokll puffs up, standing (not really) tall. He ignores Dean's comment because Dean really is just a simple 'turds'-man whose tedious remark about 'handcuffs' (that might have been impossible to get off but really are probably just a 'fashion statement' because Grokll couldn't possibly be defeated by two measly rings of shiny stuff) shows just how evolutionarily backwards Dean really is.

"This," and Grokll cradles the man close to his chest in a show of manly strength and intimacy, "is 'Mr. Jones.' He's your replacement, old Chosen One."

* * *

_He's your replacement, old Chosen One_

_He's your replacement, old Chosen One_

_Your replacement, old Chosen One_

_Replacement._

_Old. Chosen. One._

Sam cannot get the voice out of his head. Grokll's words bounce along in harmonious tragedy, haunting him in what he decides must be the karma induced eternal anguish of regret. It fills Sam with the rising need to do something- to repute Grokll's words.

Because, no matter what Sam has done, no matter what happens, Sam does not deserve to feel this way just because of Grokll's nonsensical announcement. Because, truly, Sam is _so_ _not_ old!

* * *

"Sam." Dean tries, again.

Sam has been _despondent_ (and boy is it a sad day when Dean has to crack open his smart brain to find such a word. Right now, his usual mentions of Sam being a girl are not enough to truly express just how emo Sam is being at the moment.) all afternoon. Currently, Sam is staring out of a window that is ironically not filled with rain, but rather, is lighting up the world with sunshine, birds tweeting, and a nice, cool breeze.

Anyways.

"Stop moping. I mean, c'mon, this is great! This is what we've wanted the whole time. He's just some weird, short, little winged-man with sadistic pie torturing habits. We do _not_ need that in our lives," Dean says with an uncharacteristically healthy perspective.

Even though Dean is being reasonable for perhaps the only time in his life, Sam is just not getting the message. This probably has something to do with Sam's _compassion_ or some ridiculous thing that isn't food related.

Dean lets out a huff that tells Sam exactly how _done_ Dean is with trying to make Sam listen to reason.

"I'm going out. When I get back, we're finishing this case and I better see you making it up to me for all of the chick flick moments I've been forced to be a part of all afternoon."

With that, Dean slings on his leather jacket and mutters as he walks out the door, "I thought for sure this time it was going to be zombies. It's _never_ zombies. Stupid cannibalistic cheerleaders, ruining the reputation of a perfectly good profession."

* * *

"Ah, 'blast it.' This monstrous device will NOT defeat me: Grokll the Great, Defender of Grapes and Fairies, Lord of the Tingles, hero to all the haters who only pretend to hate him because they're just jealous and don't actually think that it's his fault that the dumb pie fell in the first place!"

"Y- your Lordship of the Tingles?"

Grokll tears his eyes from his current quest and snaps at the man tied up on top of the only bed of the room, "WhaT?!"

"Can I go home to my wife and kids? If I leave now, I might be able to make it to little Tommy's birthday before he opens his presents." Mr. Jones looks off into the distance, ruminating in his dreams of fatherhood.

Then he whispers to himself, but really to Grokll too because Grokll has fantastic hearing, "Maybe this year, their mom won't have to explain why daddy couldn't make it to their birthday when he _promised_ that he would do better this time."

**…**

**…**

**…**

The door of the motel room (Which Grokll totally didn't break into but rather, honorably claimed in the name of his kingdom and for all of the loyal fairy folk, because really, it was the only thing he could have possibly done in this situation-and are you suggesting that Grokll is merely a lowly thief of thievery? I think not!) slams open.

"Take me back Grokll! I _need_ you and your big, manly wings that are so sexy!" Sam doesn't shout because he has _dignity_, but Grokll really was expecting that Sam would say that and is all sorts of surprised when Sam doesn't.

"Grokll, we need to talk." Is what Sam actually says and Grokll takes comfort in the fact that this could just be the customary human lead in to what Grokll feels Sam really should be saying to Grokll at this point in time.

"Yeeees, old Chosen One?" And Grokll's voice takes on that annoying lilt (You know, that one tone of voice that you must have heard sometime in your life, because you've had to have known at least one know-it-all and they _love_ to rub your mistakes in your face while using this tone of voice?).

Sam ignores the voice because he is a 'big person' or whatever. Instead, he starts to pace, gesturing and talking all the while.

"I've been thinking about what you said this morning. I can't stop thinking about it. I can see where you're coming and for the most part, you're right. But I can't just stand by and leave it be! Not like this. You need to know something about me, Grokll."

And then Sam stops pacing, turns to Grokll so Grokll will get the full effect of Sam's oncoming words. Sam says, "I'm not old."

Grokll is flabbergasted. He thought for sure his plan would work! But it hasn't and Sam totally fixated on the wrong part of his speech. Grokll is astonished and super disappointed. Grokll is starting to feel mad. Grokll has _words_ to say.

"This. This is what you came to tell me? You put yourself in front of _the King of Fairies and Grapes_ and that is what you have to say in the presence of a being who is practically your god? Grokll thinks not!" And the words come out in a tone that is magnified by the angling of his wings and the words thunder through the room in a not entirely unthreatening manner.

Grokll's next words are gentler; almost sad, "You were supposed to grow jealous of Mr. Jones. Oh Sam, how I wish you had found the will to be the Chosen One of your own accord. But see. I can't wait any longer. You **need** to learn the Way of the Wings. As the time I've waited for you to take charge of your destiny grows longer, the time we have for training shrinks. We must go now. I'm sorry, Chosen One."

With that, and a large sweep of Grokll's wings, a large gaping hole of universe-sucking-space tears open behind Grokll. Grokll grabs Sam and falls into it. The hole closes abruptly, leaving behind naught but a lone pair of handcuffs (Grokll would like to point out that while the universe-sucking-hole might have sucked them right off of Grokll's hands, he loosened them.).

"M_y n_am_e is_n't_ M_r. J_on_e_s_," not Mr. Jones calls out weakly.


End file.
